Finding Normal
by LilAl260
Summary: A series of 1-shot/ficlet conversations that happen immediately following DH as everyone tries to find their "new normal".
1. Flying Again

Harry couldn't sleep. For once it wasn't nightmares, anxiety about Hallows or Horcruxes, or even bad weather. Well, not directly anyway. He sighed as he fumbled with his glasses before he quietly got out of bed and crept silently from Ron's room. He knew it was only a week since he defeated Volde-, no, Harry refused to call him by any nicknames. It had only been a week since he defeated Tom Riddle. It had only been a week since he had been on the run, a week since having to split the night guard, a week since he had to figure out the Horcruxes, a week since he had to wonder which of his friends might die if he didn't hurry up and end this war. No, tonight's insomnia was just from having such an irregular schedule for so long.

He still felt a pang of guilt anytime he thought about all the people that died protecting him, each of the people he loved that suffered because it took him so long to find the answers. Somewhere deep inside, he knew that people didn't blame him. After all, he was only a teen. He wasn't even a fully-qualified wizard yet. He did more in the last year to defeat Riddle than anyone else was able to do in the last 20 years combined.

But as he moved quietly down the stairs of The Burrow, he passed the door to Fred and Ge-, no, it was just George's room now. George, who bravely volunteered to Polyjuice himself into Harry this time last year. George, who took an accidental curse from Snape and had lost a small part of himself that night. George, who lost his twin - half his jokes, half his laugh, half his life just a week ago. There was no longer a 'Fred and George,' but merely a George.

George had come home after the Battle of Hogwarts. He couldn't stand to be alone in his flat above the shop. Not that he was much better here, Harry thought. George was trying - everyone gave him that. He still spent time with the family. He ate meals with them, sat with them in the family room and listed to the wireless, even helped his mom watch over the chickens in the mornings. But the spark just wasn't there. The jokes were half-hearted, _just like the twins_, Harry thought.

As he reached the final landing before the kitchen, Harry noticed the lamps were lit in the room below. He wondered who else might be up in the middle of the night. As he reached the last step, he was able to make out the back of Mr. Weasley sitting quietly at the table, sipping a cup of tea.

"Fancy a spot of tea, Harry?" Without waiting for an answer, Mr. Weasley summoned another cup and started to pour from the kettle.

"Uh, sure. Thanks," he said as he sat to the left of Mr. Weasley. There was a brief but comfortable silence as each of them just sipped tea and worked through their thoughts before Harry asked, "how did you know it was me?"

Arthur chuckled softly, "you'd be surprised by how much I know about what goes on in my home." Harry blanched at the thought. He and Ginny had certainly not been on their best behavior since they came back to the Burrow. Would Arthur approve of Harry snogging his daughter, stealing her away for brief, but enjoyable, kisses? "Some day, you and Ginny will know the difference in the sounds each of your children make as the move through your house. And I may have never told you as much, but I have long felt like you were already one of my sons. I've just been waiting on you to figure it out and make it official, whenever you're ready, of course."

Harry wasn't sure exactly how to respond to that. Had Mr. Weasley just given him permission to marry Ginny, even when they were still so early in their relationship? Had he really forgiven Harry for the attack he suffered at the Ministry? Could he forgive Harry for George's injured ear, for putting Ron in dangerous situations time and again, for Fred's death, for leaving his daughter unprotected when he disappeared after the wedding, for making his entire family targets for Death Eaters? Harry's expression changed to a deep frown as he thought about how much this family had sacrificed for him already. How could he ever think they would welcome him in?

Harry had set his tea back on the table as he thought through all of this. Arthur never looked up from the spot on the table that he had been speaking to as he continued, "Harry, I've said this before, and I meant it. I mean it now. The luckiest day this family has ever had was the day that Ron sat with you on your first trip to Hogwarts. This family owes you more than you can ever begin to imagine."

Harry looked upon shock. "But what about -" he hesitated, wondering which horrible thing he should bring up first.

"But nothing, Harry" he replied quickly and firmly. Arthur closed his eyes and said, "I remember having a cup of tea with Charlie when he was about eight. It was early spring, and he had been flying his first full-sized broom that he got the Christmas before. He was so excited to finally have a broom of his own. He was so careful with it. He flew slow at first. He flew around the orchard, down to the pond, over to the field... Around and round for hours." Mr. Weasley smiled as he watched the memory reply in his mind. Harry couldn't help but wonder how this had anything to do with missing ears or a dead son.

"As the spring went on, Charlie started flying faster, higher, and tighter around the trees as he tried to make laps in faster and faster times. He said he was practicing because he wanted to be a professional quidditch player. He told me that he was going to be the fastest and best seeker ever," Arthur chuckled. "He really wasn't that fast, or even that good. But he practiced hard and it made him happy, so Molly and I encouraged him to keep practicing. One day, a particularly nasty storm blew in quickly while he was out making laps and lightning stuck one of the trees, right as Charlie went to make his turn around it. A branch came crashing down and knocked Charlie from the broom. Fortunately he was low to the ground at the time and he wasn't hurt badly - a few scratches."

Arthur paused for a moment, as if deciding something. Harry was really starting to get confused. What did a broom crash by an eight year old Charlie have to do with anything? Harry picked up his cup and took another drink of his tea while he waited on Mr. Weasley to continue. "Unfortunately, his broom didn't fare so well. The branch that knocked him off fell right across the handle, snapping it into several places when it hit the ground. As I sat here and Charlie sat right where you are, he was crying." Harry couldn't imagine Charlie, who seemed always so tough, crying over a broken broom. "He was terrified. He was always a smart lad. He knew that brooms weren't cheap and he figured that it had been tough for Molly and I to get it for him. He sobbed and asked if I could ever forgive him for breaking the broom when he knew how much it cost us, how much we must have sacrificed to give it to him. Amazingly perceptive for such a young child, really."

Harry couldn't help but agree. He wondered if McGonagall was upset when Harry's first broom was destroyed by the Whomping Willow? She never let on if she was. Would Sirius have been upset about the Firebolt? It was a very expensive broom, even if it wasn't Harry's fault that it was broken. Harry could suddenly understand exactly why the eight year old Charlie was so worried.

Arthur topped off Harry's half-full cup of tea before he turned towards Harry and continued, "So I sat here with him, put my arm around him and gave him a hug," and he replicated the action with Harry. "Then I told him, 'when your mother and I let you fly, we supported you. We tried to teach you how to fly, and we watched nervously as you trained, as you flew higher and faster. We watched as you pushed yourself, as you took on harder maneuvers and trickier turns. We knew before you ever got on the broom that you may crash and that the broom may get destroyed some day. We knew that you could get hurt or that if something happened we may doubt our decisions. But we knew we made the right call. We knew there were risks with a broom, we knew the costs, we knew that we might lose it someday. But that's the risk we faced when we bought that broom. And when something bad happened, we didn't blame the broom, we didn't blame you.'"

Arthur was speaking more slowly knew, with emotion thick in his voice. He gave Harry a light squeeze around the shoulders before finishing. "like Charlie's broom, Harry, we knew the risks of supporting you. I knew the risk of standing watch in the Ministry. We knew the risk of standing with the Order and transporting you last year. We knew the risk when we came to Hogwarts to fight last week. When we crashed and lost," he hesitated slightly, "lost Fred, we all knew from the start it was possible. But we never once regretted our decisions, we never once blamed you. Charlie didn't control the storm, and you didn't control Vol- Voldemort. We weren't mad at Charlie and we aren't mad at you. We're all sad about Fred, Remus, Tonks, and a host of other people that died fighting, but we've never blamed you. Try to remember that, as I would hate to lose another son because of some misguided belief that any of this is your fault."

Arthur tightened his grip on Harry's shoulder again with his left arm briefly before standing and levitating his teacup to the sink. "Well, I think I could finally sleep again. Good night, Harry. See you at breakfast," Mr. Weasley said as he turned to head up to his bedroom.

Harry remained at the table for several more minutes, drinking the rest of his tea and mulling over what Mr. Weasley had just said to him. Harry couldn't understand why the Weasley family had been so wonderful to him, but he knew that he appreciated everything they had already sacrificed for him. Harry remembered that Oliver Wood talked about how Charlie eventually became a great seeker and could have played professionally - he didn't let a broken broom stop him. Maybe Harry could keep moving forward, not letting the memory of a dark wizard stop him from having the family he always wanted, as well.

Feeling oddly content and ready to sleep again, Harry cleaned up the tea cups, extinguished the lights, and crept quietly back up the stairs to Ron's room. _Maybe Ginny and I should find a place outside to snog_, Harry thought as he took off his glasses and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_A/n: While I have every intention of eventually creating a full-length book, I figured this would be a good way to get my feet wet. I have several other small conversations already planned. We'll see if I can manage to get them written out in a timely fashion._


	2. Together

_A/N: sorry an about the bold text. I can't get it to go away._

* * *

Harry awoke and was momentarily confused. After spending the last several months in a tent, opening his eyes in a comfortable four-poster in the Gryffindor Tower was a bit disorienting. As he blinked the sleep from his eyes, it all started coming back to him. The Battle of Hogwarts, breaking into the Ministry and Gringotts, Shell Cottage, Malfoy Manor, Horcruxes, and Hallows.

The Hallows. The Cloak of Invisibility was his to keep and, he hoped, someday pass along to his children. The Resurrection stone was lost in the Forbidden Forest and would stay there, with any luck. And then there was the Elder Wand. If Harry expected to spend his life as the its master, the key to being successful was to never wield it, to keep people unaware of its existence. He believed that the only wizard to use it wisely in the last half-century would be its perfect eternal guardian. Harry needed to return Dumbledore's wand to the tomb, and he wanted to do it soon so people wouldn't see him with it.

But how would he get it there? There were literally hundred of extra people milling about the castle. When he, Ron, and Hermione had come up to Gryffindor Tower near midday, there had already been a throng of parents, Ministry employees and media rushing into the castle. Harry knew that it must be even worse now. Fortunately, it was very dark outside when Harry woke, and he assumed correctly that it was nearing midnight. Harry dressed quickly in the dark room and threw on his Invisibility Cloak before he worked his way down to the common room, moving as quietly as possible.

He wasn't surprised at all to find it incredibly crowded. People were sleeping in the armchairs and laying across the sofas, many more were sacked out in bedrolls around the waning fire. Were the dormitories all full? Harry hadn't even noticed the other beds in his room. He knew that Ron and Hermione had shared a bed - the thought spread a smile over his face.

_It's about time they caught on_, he thought. But were Neville, Dean and Seamus in their old beds? Or were there other random strangers sleeping in their dorm?

Harry smiled again as he moved through the common room. Never before had he taken the time to ponder such meaningless situations as who is sleeping in which beds. For the first time, he felt safe enough to let his mind wander over such menial details. As he looked towards the portrait hole, his heart skipped a beat. Ginny was leaning against the door frame wide awake, almost appearing to be a sentry on watch over the room. There was no way that he could leave without her knowing.

Her eyes were red-rimmed, but she was still a picture of strength and beauty. Her fiery red hair hung loosely over her shoulders, no longer caked with grime and blood from the battle. Her warm brown eyes were slowly scanning the room, as if she was watching over her friends, just waiting for someone to need her help. Harry stopped momentarily and just watched her, taking in the sight of his, well, he wasn't sure what they were. He hoped she would be his girlfriend again, but would understand if she had moved on.

He wondered how many nights she had spent just like this, guarding her friends both here in Gryffindor Tower and all the months the students spent hiding in the Room of Requirement. Harry felt a sense of gratitude for her. It gave him comfort to know that someone was looking out for the younger students, that someone was taking his place while he was gone. _His place_- would he always feel the need to protect everyone else?

Somewhere deep inside, he knew that he wanted her by his side forever. No, he _needed _her by his side. And he wanted that forever to start tonight. He steeled his resolve and moved over towards her. Before he could say the first word she suddenly looked in his direction.

"Just where do you think you're off to?"

How did she do that? He remembered the how she seemed to know he was there early that morning as he made his way to the forest to face Voldemort. What's the point of having an invisibility cloak and he can't even sneak around in it?

"There is something that I need to do," he replied, "and I want you to come with me."

She nodded as her lips tugged upward into a light smile. She took one last look over the room to make sure everyone was sleeping and safe before she moved to open the portrait hole. They moved through quickly and waited until the portrait closed behind them before speaking again.

"So what secret quest is the savior of the wizarding world on that he doesn't even take his friends," she quipped with a smile.

He faked a hurt sound in his voice, "I thought you and I were friends?"

She noticed that he didn't deny that he was playing the hero nor did he answer her question about where they were going. But she decided to let it slide in favor of finding the answer that she really wanted. "Are we _just _friends, Harry?"

He had never been so glad as to be under his invisibility cloak. His eyes shot wide open, his mouth dropped open and he was blushing furiously, but he also had the advantage of his expressions not betraying him while being able to study her face carefully. He noticed that her voice sounded innocent enough, but her eyebrows dropped slightly as she had a slightly stern look on her face, almost appearing that she was trying to see through his cloak to watch his face. For a moment, he thought it looked like she was daring him to do anything besides continue their relationship. She was so bold, so beautiful, a Gryffindor through-and-through.

Harry's palms got sweaty and his breathing felt constricted as his heart thumped madly in his chest. Earlier this morning it beat like this as he made his way to the forest, counting down the moments to his rapidly-approaching death. This time, his heart beat wildly from anxiety as he finally had a chance to truly live for the first time. "I had, erm, I hoped that there was still a chance of something more" he said nervously.

His heart flipped as her expression lifted and her face broke into a huge smile in his direction. Could it be that easy between them? Would they be unphased by months of fighting in a war? Could they just ignore the break-up after Dumbledore's funeral? Could they just pick back up after nine months apart? Nine months of hell for both of us, he thought.

Her cheeks flushed slightly as she beamed towards him. "Okay."

Harry's body went numb as he thought about the time they spent by the lake last spring, the kiss at The Burrow before Bill's wedding. He imagined her by his side as they left Hogwarts for what Harry knew would be his last time. Even the thought of attending so many funerals of people he loved seemed less daunting knowing she would be with him. They both felt as if a huge weight was lifting from them. Now that they had their relationship figured out, they could take on anything - _together_. Together, a word Harry had never dared to dream once he heard the prophecy two years earlier. But looking forward, he loved the sound of it.

"So, what's the great quest this time?"

"Quest? Oh!" What was he doing again? "I need to go out on the grounds to return something" he whispered. "Just walk with me, I'll take the cloak off and explain as much as I can when we get outside."

She nodded and turned to lead the way down past the Great Hall and turned to go out the front doors. It was very quiet in the castle and they didn't run into anyone. They made their way down to the lawn before Harry took off the cloak. He tentatively reached out to hold her hand before they continued their walk. His mind was on fire at the feel of her hand in his as she took his hand and squeezed his fingers affectionately.

"We need to go down to Dumbledore's tomb, to return his wand. Voldemort stole it, thinking it would help him this morning."

"Is it really true, what you told him? Are you really the owner of the Elder Wand?"

Harry wasn't sure what to say. While he was the master of the wand, and it certainly helped him do the impossible - repair his Holly wand - it still didn't feel right to him. It didn't feel right to hold Dumbledore's wand. It didn't feel right in his hand, it didn't have the same size, weight, and loyalty that his wand seemed to have. Just like his reconciliation with Ginny had been easy and natural, using the Holly wand felt the same way.

"Yes and no. I dunno," he struggled. "I am the master of the wand, but it's not my wand.

_This _is my wand," he declared as his held up his old wand. "I suppose I could use the Elder Wand if I wanted to, and it would respond to me. But it just wouldn't feel right. I figure that Professor Dumbledore used the wand for a long time, and he used it well. I think I can trust him to hold it a little longer for me."

They continued on towards the tomb in silence for a few minutes. Harry wanted to tell Ginny everything. He hoped to spend the rest of their lives together, and he didn't want there to be any secrets between them. There were no more dark lords, no more prophecies, no more Horcruxes or Hallows to worry about. There were still a few Death Eaters on the loose, but none of them seemed like they would have what it took to rally the Death Eaters into a formidable group again.

But he didn't want to drive the conversation and try to explain everything right now. He wouldn't hold back if she asked, but he didn't want to overwhelm her with so many details tonight.

"So the story of the Three Brothers isn't just a children's tale. And the cloak?"

"Also mine" he said as he smiled and motioned to the cloak draped over his arm. "So was the stone."

"_Was?"_

"Was. It was inside the snitch that Dumbledore left to me last summer. I used it before - " he stopped talking suddenly, as he hadn't intended on telling her so soon that he essentially had survived a suicide walk into the forest.

Ginny saved Harry the discomfort of trying to finish his statement. "You walked past me on the way there." It wasn't a question. She knew he had gone to the forest after seeing Hagrid carry him back to the castle. "I knew you walked by while I was helping that girl. I'm not sure how, but I knew."

"I figured you could hear my heartbeat because I was terrified" he admitted quietly. "I almost couldn't do it, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to face him."

"Did you," she hesitated and her voice was shaking slightly, "did you really die?"

They stopped walking as he considered it. Had he actually died? The whole thing in his head with Dumbledore at Kings Cross had certainly been unusual. He still couldn't wrap his mind around it. He had a choice to either stay or go. When he asked Sir Nicholas about it years before - after Sirius went through the veil - Sir Nicholas' choice to stay resulted in becoming a ghost. But while Harry chose to come back, he certainly wasn't a ghost.

"I don't know. It is hard to explain, but I could have. I survived the killing curse again, but I don't fully understand it."

"Why?"

Confused, Harry looked at her and asked, "why what?"

"Why did he bait you into the woods, and why did you go?"

Harry tried to decide how to explain it. He finally settled on the one thing that was personal to her and she could understand. "In your first year, Voldemort almost came back because of the diary." She nodded but still looked confused. "That was because he had performed very dark magic and put a part of himself into the diary. You felt the effects of him taking over."

Ginny looked down, upset. Why would he chose this moment to remind her of her weakness five years earlier? Harry seemed to notice the change and quickly continued.

"Hey, I'm not blaming you for anything. This should help you to make sense of what happened. It wasn't just his memory in the diary. It was actually part of him. So was my scar."

"Your sc - wait, what? There was a piece of him inside your head?"

"Yes. That why I was having those visions and dreams that led us into the Department of Mysteries. He was focusing on the prophecy, and neither of us could control when the other would see our thoughts. I didn't fully understand it until a few minutes before I went to the forest, but I knew that I had to find a way to destroy the part of Voldemort in my scar so he could be defeated after Neville killed Nagini."

"Wait, there was more than two?" Harry didn't even realize they had started walking again, but he noticed that the white tomb was now within sight.

"Quite a few, really. The diary, my scar, Nagini, Slytherin's locket, the Ressurection Stone, Ravenclaw's diadem, and Hufflepuff's cup" Ginny looked like she might panic at the thought of there being a way for Voldemort to return again. "But they've all been destroyed. He got scared and started checking all the locations he had hidden them as we were destroying them. He thought about each one of them and I watched as he went to each place only to find out we were beating him."

"So is he really gone this time?"

"Yes, really."

"And he can't come back?"

"Only as an inferius. But that's not what you meant. So no, he can't come back. He is going to stay dead this time," Harry said as they walked up to the base of the tomb. "Just like Dumbledore" he said as he tilted his head towards the smooth white sepulcher.

"Good," she replied. "About Voldemort, that is" she quickly added with a nervous smile.

"I knew what you meant. And I think Dumbledore was okay with dying. He once told me that he considered death the 'next great adventure.' There are so many things to explain, I don't know how we'll get through them all in a single lifetime" he said, while thinking about the memories in the pensieve. Harry gave her hand a light squeeze and looked her in the eye. "I'll just be a moment here."

She understood that this was something personal, that he needed to do it alone. So she stood at the base of the tomb as Harry approached the cracked face then reached in, placing the wand back into Dumbledore's hand. She heard him talking to Dumbledore quietly, but couldn't make out the words that he had said. She saw Harry take a deep breath and wipe his eyes before stepping back from the tomb. He pulled out his Holly and Phoenix wand and cast_Reparo _on the tomb, restoring it to its former splendor. Then he cast a series of spells that she did not recognize, but assumed were to protect the tomb, keeping anyone else from removing the Elder Wand.

As Harry walked down to where Ginny stood waiting, she noticed that he was smiling. He walked up, took her hand back into his, and looked at her intently. "Thank you for coming with me." he said. "I needed you to be with me," he quickly added.

"Thank you for not trying to leave me behind again."

"I've learned my lesson - I'll never leave you behind again. That was possibly the worst nine months of my life," he said.

"Mine too," she said as she leaned in to give Harry a quick kiss on the cheek. "Why don't we see if we can make up for it," she added suggestively. Harry agreed quickly and leaned in for a proper kiss.

When they broke apart to breathe again, Harry and Ginny both smiled. Despite all the destruction around them, the broken families, the wounds that left scars deeper than the eye could see, they knew that everything was going to get better. They still had a lot to discuss, and many tough days ahead, but they knew they would get through it because they would face it all _together_.


	3. Reunited

_A/N: sorry for the delay. I just couldn't get this one to finish writing itself. I've still got more chapter ideas floating around, but they may take a while to spit them out. Silly work..._

* * *

Despite the fact that everyone had only returned from Hogwarts an hour before, it had already been a long afternoon at the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley had initially tried to wear a strong face in front of the family, but she broke quickly and left the room with Arthur following quickly behind her. Everyone else remained scattered between the kitchen and sitting room, emotionally drained and drawing on one another for support as gravity pressed in on them, crushing them beneath the weight of the ugly truth: this wasn't some elaborate prank, Fred was gone. Sporadically, someone would break the silence in strained conversation that quickly died off as the somber mood quickly brought each of them back to their thoughts.

The reverie was suddenly broken by a telltale _pop_ of an apparition. Arthur came running into the room with his wand drawn, peeking cautiously through the window. While most Death Eaters had either been killed in the Battle of Hogwarts or quickly surrendered after Voldemort fell, there were still a few on the loose that had been causing some trouble. Arthur took one last calming breath before ripping the door open and pointing his wand at the chest of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Who did I escort when we brought Harry from Privet Drive last summer?" Kingsley asked without drawing his wand.

"Hermione. Who recruited me into the Order?"

"Fabian and Gideon. Arthur, I hate to disturb your family, but something just came to my attention and I need to speak with Harry again." Arthur lowered his wand and backed out of the doorway to allow Kingsley entrance. Harry overheard the exchange and had already risen from the couch in the sitting room and walked out to the kitchen. Harry was nervous. While everyone knew that Kingsley had spent a lot of time talking to Hermione, Ron and him, Harry hadn't shared the specifics of that conversation with the family. He hoped that Kingsley would understand and not divulge any of the secrets that Harry intended to take to the grave. A sudden wave of panic washed over Harry as he remembered that he hadn't even had a chance to mention that he, Ron, and Neville had agreed to join the Aurors. If Kingsley mentioned it now, Ginny would hear...

"Yes, sir?" Harry had been openly hostile with previous Ministers that came calling on him. They typically wanted to use Harry as a puppet to suggest that the Ministry active, appearing to be useful, trustworthy and maybe good for the public. Harry understood that previous ministers had been trying to recruit him in a social engineering experiment because they wanted power and fame. But Kingsley was different. He was a member of The Order of the Phoenix. He had escorted Harry from Privet Drive twice to Order safe houses. Kingsley had sent the warning during Bill's wedding when the protective enchantments failed after Death Eaters took control of the Ministry. Kingsley had defied Fudge to protect Dumbledore after the DA was exposed. He even reported false information about Sirius' location to his superiors while passing good information to Arthur. All things considered, Harry felt a sense of loyalty to Kingsley because of his constant decisions to do what was right, not what people in authority positions wanted.

"I appreciate how much of your time you have already given up to meet with me." Harry thought it was ironic that Kingsley was apologizing for taking so much of his time when he wondered how many hours a day Kingsley must be spending in meetings trying to rebuild the Ministry. "I thought you should know that I will be going to meet with Dedalus and Hestia to coordinate bringing your family home. I hoped you might join me."

Family? Join him? Had Kingsley finally cracked under the pressure of trying to run the Ministry? Truth be told, Harry couldn't think of three people he would like to see less than the Dursleys. He had spent years being neglected by them and now he couldn't see any reason to personally disappoint them by proving to them that he survived the war. Every part of him knew that his family wouldn't even ask if he lived if Harry decided to stay behind - they would just be glad to be free to go back to living a normal life amongst the muggles, thank you very much.

For the briefest of moments, Harry considered declining Kingsley's request. But after everything Kingsley had risked to always do what was right, Harry couldn't help but wonder about what reasons Kingsley would have to want him there for this. "Uhm, sure, I guess. When do we leave?"

"Right now, if you are able." Kingsley cocked his head slightly and raised an eyebrow before continuing, "As you know, I am extremely shorthanded at the moment, and I need all the people that I can trust helping me. So The sooner I can bring Dedalus and Hestia back into service, the better off we will all be."

When they met the day before and Kingsley offered them all positions as Aurors, he told them how he had already started removing Death Eaters and other undesirables to restore faith of the community in the fledgling government after Voldemort's followers had taken over just months before. Harry knew that there must be a terrible shortage of trustworthy witches and wizards to employ. "Besides, it seems a little cruel to leave them with your family any longer than absolutely required," Kingsley added with a smile.

Several people chuckled and looked to Harry. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he said to the room before nodding to Kingsley to indicate that he was ready to go. "Right then. How are we getting there?"

"Side-along apparition, since you don't have a license yet," Kingsley said with a wink, causing Harry to frown. He really did not want to be punished for breaking the rules, but he wondered how many of his previous transgressions he would have to answer for. Kingsley seemed to know what Harry was thinking about and said him, "Don't worry, Harry. I have a feeling that we will be able to take care of any indiscretions that may have been necessary during your quest to defeat Voldemort."

Harry had been thinking about this very thing in the crowded solitude of the sitting room. What made him so special that he hoped to avoid punishment for apparating without a license? Hadn't he cast the cruciatus and imperious curses? He had attacked Goblins, broken into the Ministry where he freed prisoners and assaulted senior officials. Really, what chance did he have if Kingsley wanted the recovering government to appear legitimate at all? But for now, a fate worse than Azkaban was waiting for him in the form of a side-along apparition to retrieve his family with Kingsley.

After exchanging parting pleasantries, Kingsley led Harry out into the yard. Kingsley offered his arm and immediately upon touching his arm, Harry felt the too-familiar sensation of being squeezed through a too-small tube. When they arrived, Harry looked around and couldn't see where his family may be. "Sir, where exactly are we?"

Kingsley drew his wand and sent his patronus off into the copse of trees ahead of them. "Knockhill Wood, near Dundee in Scotland. When we sent your family into hiding, we wanted to make sure they were far enough away that the Death Eaters wouldn't easily find them. It's a Muggle area, mostly." He looked around again to make sure there was nobody around.

"But Scotland? What was up here that you chose this place," Harry asked as he looked around at the unimpressive surroundings. It was colder here, the skies were bleak and the woods appeared strangely dead, despite it already being mid-May.

"Honestly? I liked the name of the place. Knockhill Wood just sounded like an interesting place to come" Kingsley said, not bothering to conceal the smile on his face. For all the calculated risks he had taken over the years, such a lackadaisical approach to setting up a safe house seemed peculiar, if not amusing. But Harry admitted that there was a certain brilliance to it. If nobody had reason to look for you somewhere, they'd never think to search for signs of magical concealment there, either. A faint blue light moved towards them from somewhere in the trees. It must have been the sign that Kingsley was waiting for, because he started casually walking into the woods at the sight of it.

"Just a few more meters Harry, and we'll be able to see the house in the clearing ahead. Oh, and you need to know the Dursley's safe house is in Knockhill Wood. Repeat that for me."

"The Dursley's safe house is in Knockhill Wood."

"Good. Before we meet your family," Kingsley said, "keep in mind that this year has been hard on them - nothing like your year, I know. But for a family so distinctly Muggle, it has been hard to live with two wizards that don't understand them.

Harry almost laughed at the thought of Uncle Vernon trying to scare two adult wizards into acting less magical. He didn't suppose that his uncle had been successful at all. "I'll try, sir," Harry replied. "Although I still don't understand why you asked me to come. I don't think that they're going to celebrating my survival."

"Just give them a chance," Kingsley replied as he started walking through the last of the trees and into the clearing. Harry quickly followed and found himself walking into a very large clearing with a very large, very ordinary and completely muggle-looking house. A stone walk led up through a brick wall to the house, with beautiful rose beds and ivy growing up the close side of the house. If it weren't for the fact that Kingsley had brought him here, Harry would have never guessed that there was a witch and wizard guarding a family of refugees here.

The lawn was perfectly manicured, with several shaped trees providing shade to the porch where Harry finally noticed several people sitting, drinking an evening tea. A loud bang grabbed Harry's attention and he reached for his wand before noticing Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones nearly sprinting towards them. Kingsley seemed very relaxed, but Harry didn't lower his wand.

As Dedalus and Hestia reached them, it was a flurry of praises and questions fired at them simultaneously. Harry could only make out a few words between the two of them.

" - true what every - "

" - careless celebrations, even this far - "

" - glad you've surv - "

"Does this mean that we - "

" - not-be-named is - "

" - so boorish and uncooperative."

Harry looked rapidly back and forth between the two, trying desperately to follow what either one said, and instead found that couldn't follow either of them. Kingsley let them continue on for a few more moments before they calmed down enough to actually listen to him. "Yes, it is true. Harry defeated Voldemort on the second. Several of the most dangerous Death Eaters also fell during the battle." Dedalus and Hestia looked excited until Kingsley said, "sadly, our side suffered deep and terrible loses. More than 50 people were killed, dozens more injured. We lost three from the Order: Remis, Tonks, and Fred Weasley."

"That's terrible," Hestia exclaimed.

Dedalus added, "Poor Molly must be in a state, losing one of her boys."

Everyone was quiet a moment until finally Harry broke the ice. "She is, but she'll be okay. She's tough. She's always the one that looked after us all, and now she needs us to look after her a bit."

Kingsley nodded. "We'll stated, Harry." He then turned back to the others and continued, "I hoped to set plans to return the Dursleys sooner, but I confess I have been a bit distracted until just this evening. Since I have been named Interim Minister of Magic, I've had quite a bit to do. Harry, why don't you head up to the house while the three us of discuss the details of the move."

Looking as though that was the worst idea he'd heard all day, Harry simply nodded and trudged up to the porch. He was lost in his thoughts and memories, trying to remember why he even came on this stupid trip. Surely Kingsley could pass along the message without him. He decided against knocking on the door and turned to walk back down the stairs. There was nothing left for him in this life with these people. He wasn't crazy about them, but he wouldn't go as far as to say he hated them. They, on the other hand, had never hesitated to show anything better than open hatred to him.

Harry stopped and sat down on the too step. While he didn't really want to be here, he wasn't gong to run away. He removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes while he wracked his brain for what he would say when a disappointed Dursley answered the door and expressed discontent to see that he managed to live through the war. H was so caught upon his thoughts that he didn't even hear the door lock click or the hinges squeak quietly as the door opened slowly from the inside.

"Harry? Is that really you, Harry," He heard Dudley's voice ask, al,oat tentatively from behind him.

"Yeah, it's really me."

"So is it over? Did we win? I mean, I didn't expect," Dudley hesitated. Instantly, Harry was furious.

"You didn't expect that I could do it? That I could win? Is that it? After everything else, you thought I'd just go off and die somewhere?" Harry felt his cheeks redden as he continued to fume.

Dudley stood silent for a moment, aghast at the way that his cousin had misunderstood him. "No! No, it's not like that, Harry. I didn't expect that we would ever see you again. After everything that we put you through growing up, I always assumed that some wizard would come and tell us to go home, and then we'd never hear from any of you ever again." Dudley seemed to realize the implication of his words suddenly, and looked away ashamed.

There was a long moment where neither of them spoke. Dudley broke the silence, "Really, thanks. It means a lot to me that you'd come back for us."

Harry was confused and felt ashamed at his outburst. When he thought back to when the Dursleys were taken into hiding, hadn't it been Dudley that actually treated him decently? Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia hadn't said a word to him, even though Aunt Petunia looked as though she had wanted to. Harry made an attempt to soften his features.

"So you're all okay then?" If Dudley was different now, Harry could try to work past their differences.

Dudley fought a smile. "We're doing fine. Well, dad has nearly gone 'round the twist - you know, with all the magic and all. But mum and I are fine. She really seems to have gotten comfortable around Hestia, although she said that Dedalus is a bit of a nutter, even for a wizard."

Harry smiled as well, remembering the unusual greetings he had received over the years, even before Harry found out about his wizarding heritage. "So no major problems, then? Uncle Vernon didn't try to convince them to quit doing magic?"

Dudley's smile faded and his eyes didn't quite meet Harry's as he replied, "He's trying, but it is still tough for him. I never asked why he hated magic so much, but I think he was just afraid because he didn't understand it. Neither of us really knew how much mum knew about your world, and she never did tell us what happened to set her against it."

"I know what happened, vaguely." Harry moved to one side of the step and motioned for Dudley to join him. He let Dudley get settled before continuing, "while I don't know the whole story, I do know that your mum and mine were close as little kids..." Harry spent the next several minutes relaying Snape's childhood memories and speculating only that Aunt Petunia was a bit jealous, but more hurt that her best friend was leaving her behind for a world that she could never fully be a part of. They both jumped when they heard a sniffle from behind them.

"I'm not proud of it, but that's nearly the whole of it," Petunia said through a watery voice. "I loved her and was jealous that she had a 'talent' that I never had. When she went off to school, it broke my heart, but I was excited for her. But each break when she came home, we were more distant than the last. While I went to a normal school and just learned more language, math, and science, she was off learning magic. While I waited on her to come home and I didn't make new friends, she made loads of them. While I stayed boring and plain Petunia, she became the popular and lovely witch Lily. I suppose it seems silly to you both, but I was lonely and jealous of everything she was and I could never be."

Neither Harry nor Dudley knew what to say, so the three of them remanded in an uncomfortable silence until Petunia spoke again.

"I still love her and miss her." She didn't even try to hide her tears as she sobbed. "I wish I didn't skip the wedding. I wish I came to the shower. I wish I had gone for Christmas. She kept inviting us and I kept ignoring her. When you showed up with the note from Dumbledore, I knew that the worst had happened, and I never had a chance to make up with Lily. I've lived with that regret every day since." Once the floodgates were open and all of her defenses were down, she finally said the words that Harry never thought possible. She practically screamed through her wracked tears, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Harry!" As she collapsed to her knees in the middle of the porch.

Petunia tried to say something else that neither Dudley nor Harry could understand. She was crying so hard that everything else was lost. But Harry understood. All these years, she knew she had been mistreating him and it shamed her. She actually regretted it all. It took him a moment to resolve himself to respond.

He should be angry. He would have every right to go off, to curse her into oblivion for the neglect and abuse. But as the sun set over Knockhill Wood, Harry remembered the moment just three mornings prior as he stood in the Great Hall, doing the death dance with Riddle. Hadn't Harry offered Riddle a chance at life, at forgiveness if only he would show a speck of remorse? And here Petunia was, a sobbing mess of apologies and regrets. certainly he could offer her the same redemption.

Harry stood from the step that he and Dudley were still occupying and took took the last step to reach his aunt and kneeled beside her, draping an arm across her shoulders. He whispered comforts and forgiveness into her ear, making her sob all the harder.

The two of them sat there for quite some time. Neither was aware that Dudley had left, how much time had passed, or even that Kingsley had approached.

"As much as I hate to interrupt the reunion, it is getting quite late and I'm sure that a certain redheaded witch is waiting up for Harry," Kingsley said in his deep voice, startling them both. Harry nodded as Kingsley offered a handkerchief to Petunia, giving her a moment to compose herself before assisting her to her feet.

Kingsley continued, "Petunia, I have already spoken with Vernon about this, but I wanted to make sure you knew what options were available for your family. As part of the cover story, Vernon had accepted a position with another company, forcing you all to relocate last fall. Your home was placed on the market, but charmed so that nobody would buy it. If you wish to return to Little Whinging, we can undo all of the enchantments and see that Vernon gets his old job at Grunnings." Could she go back to her old life of looking over the bushes at her old neighbors? Certainly there would be questions. And oh, the gossip... Worst of all, could she go back to the house with so many painful memories?

"However if you wish to move on, we can remove the charm and let Number Four Privet Drive sell, then get you a new home and get the job at another firm for Vernon. You don't need to decide tonight, but we would like an answer soon because I need to get this settled by the week's end. Talk it over with your husband and let Hestia know your decision. Fortunately, the war is over and Hestia will be more than sufficient protection, although I suspect you will only need her services to prepare for the move. Therefore I will be taking Dedalus with me tonight. I'll go and brief him for his next assignment while the two of you say your goodbyes for the evening."

Petunia just nodded her head before Kingsley quickly turned and walked back into the house, leaving Harry and his aunt on the porch in the twilight.

"Harry, I understand if you never want to see us," Petunia said quietly as she stared at her feet. But Harry quickly interrupted her.

"No, it's not like that. Sure, the past was tough on both of us, but I've learned a lot about the importance of love, and family. I think we'll be okay. We will figure this all out."

Petunia looked up with a wary smile on her face and whispered, "Thank you. For everything," as she stepped forward and hugged her nephew for the first time in his life. Her words and actions startled him for the briefest of moments.

"No, I should be thanking you," he said as he returned her embrace. "Whether you knew it or not, you saved my life on numerous occasions. If I hadn't returned to Privet Drive each summer, I wouldn't have lived to see this all done."

They separated, but stood there appraising one other for the first time, as aunt and nephew that were sad to see the visit come to a close. She gave him a sad smile and said, "Don't be a stranger. Now go see to the young lady that's waiting on you. I don't want her upset for keeping you so late, when we meet."

Harry smiled the biggest smile he could remember in all the time he had spent with his aunt before he replied, "I would like that. I would like that very much. I'll work it out with Kingsley. Until then, take care of yourselves," Harry added awkwardly. Harry wasn't used to actually wanting to see his family again. This would take some getting used to.

They heard the door open as she responded, "You too, Harry." Kingsley walked out on to the porch with Dedalus.

"All set then? Good. Dedalus, I will see you in the morning. Harry, take my arm and we will be off," Kingsey said as he extended his arm. Harry looked back at his aunt and smiled as he reached out for Kingsley's offered arm.

Harry swore she mouthed to him, "I lo-" before they disapparated from the porch at Knockhill Wood.


	4. Welcome Home

"I already told you why, Percy," Ron responded with an obvious tone of discontent. "You have to do it with us, it's your duty as a brother!"

For what Ron thought to be the hundred and seventeenth time, Percy tried to deflect. "But George -"

"- can't do it yet. Why is that so tough to understand? He's burying his twin. Not just another brother, but his twin - the one that none of us can truly say we have had that kind of a close a connection to."

"Why can't Ginevra do it?"

"Because she's a witch, and wizards are supposed to be the pall bearers for funerals."

"I don't understand why we have to do it! We can just levitate the casket! Are we not wizards?"

"Why does a beater hit a bludger? It's just the way things are. Now quit making excuses, you prat!"

"Well, what about Harry? He could do it!"

"Harry's my best friend, but he's still not a Weasley." Ron felt his temper rising as he began to plead, "George needs us Percy, so would you please just stop being difficult? It's your duty. We need you to do this with us!"

"It's just..." Percy hesitated before sighing heavily. "You wouldn't understand, Ron!" Percy proclaimed in a dark, hollow voice.

"While I never wrote a report on cauldron-bottom thicknesses, you may be surprised to find that I understand a great load of things," Ron retorted, sharply.

Percy fidgeted while he considered his next words carefully. When he finally spoke again, it was so softly that Ron was caught off guard and he almost missed the first few words. "This is different than when you were out running around, saving the world from dark magic and evil wizards. I left. I abandoned the family. I said horrible things to everyone. I wrote letters to Fred and George, telling them to give up the shop, that they were embarrassing and degrading to our family name. I told Bill that curse-breaking for Gringotts was lowly work."

Ron stood quietly and Percy continued to berate himself. Ron wanted so badly to interrupt, but he understood that Percy needed this opportunity to give voice to all the feelings and regrets that he had been holding in for so long. Ron understood because he did the same thing to himself several times the previous December. So Ron just let Percy carry on while he let all of his pent up fears and frustrations come out.

"I tried to pressure our father into falling in line with a corrupt government. I told you to abandon Harry. How can you forgive me? How can the family forgive me?"

Percy got so worked up that he was yelling, waving his arms around in the air. His eyes were open wide, almost bulging from behind his glasses and small droplets of spittle flew from his mouth with nearly every word. He was looking around, eyes darting from point to point like he was seeing events replaying through his mind. if Ron didn't know how Percy felt, he may almost find his brother's appearance comical. He suppressed a grin when he wondered, '_Is this what someone acts like after drinking Essence of Insanity?_'

"And I was blind to it all for so long. Then when I realized what was really going on, I was in too deep and I couldn't see how to get out. I was a coward! So I stood by and watched all of this happen. And when I finally got the nerve to come back, I caused such a distraction that Fred got killed! If I would have just stayed out, or.."

But Ron never got to hear what else Percy thought he was responsible for, or how things could have been different. Percy had broken down, sobbing uncontrollably. His shoulders shook heavily as he brought his hands to his face - one removing his horn-rimmed glasses and the other covering his eyes.

Ron was beside himself. Was he really going to have to admit what he had done... to Percy of all people? Harry and Hermione had been gracious enough to forgive him, and decided they would say Ron had left to find food, information, potion supplies - anything he could to help. Only Bill and Fluer suspected otherwise, but even they had agreed to drop it because they didn't know all the details of Ron's sudden appearance at Shell Cottage. Ron had shown up in a right state - distressed, angry, tired, hungry and dirty. Bill could tell that something was wrong with Ron, but didn't press him for the details that Ron would never have shared anyway.

Debating with himself, Ron steeled his resolve before taking a deep breath, then pursing his lips to blow it out slowly. Ron walked over and sat next to Percy, then leaned over and bumped their shoulders together and said quietly, "If it makes you feel any better, I was stupid enough to take your advice. But to be honest, the reasons you gave really had nothing to do with it."

Percy never looked up, but managed to mutter out between snuffles, "whadameen?"

"I mean, I abandoned him. I left. Back in December, I went through a dark time and I left. Even when we were isolated out in the middle of the woods, Voldemort got to me. Worst part was, I couldn't come home, and I couldn't go back. So I ran out on my best friends. After a run-in with some snatchers and learning about the taboo, I crashed at Bill's."

Percy had stopped crying and was looking at Ron through red-rimmed eyes. He didn't even bother to wipe the wetness from his cheek. "Wait, let me get this straight. You - " Percy hesitated, barely wanting to repeat what his youngest brother had told him. Certainly someone was putting him up to this. Ron must have been looking for an opportunity to make him suffer just a little more for his betrayal. Any moment, George would pop out from around the corner to let him know this was an elaborate set up.

But then Ron finished the sentence for Percy with a deep regret pouring out of his words. " - Left. Abandoned my friends. Ran away." The pain was evident in his voice as he finished, "I deserted them when they needed me most. So while I've never studied cauldron bottoms, I know exactly what you're going through."

They sat in an uncomfortable silence for nearly a minute before Percy finally spoke again. "You really left?"

"Yes. I really did."

"But they welcomed you back?"

Ron stared off towards the corner of the room, but Percy could tell that he was not seeing the chair that obstructed the view of the objects there. "Eventually." Ron brought up his right arm and started rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Because of the protective enchantments, it took a while to get back to them. Harry forgave me right off, since the first thing I did was save him from drowning. Hermione, well, she uhm, took a bit longer. But what's going on with Hermione and me is obviously a bit different," he chuckled nervously.

Percy cracked a smile. "I might have noticed." But the smile quickly faded. "Harry and Hermione are different, though. What makes you think that the family will accept me back?"

Ron sighed loudly. "Haven't you been paying attention at all? Who gave you the hug in the hallway at Hogwarts?"

"George."

"And who cheered you on for cracking a joke?"

"Fred."

And who was there with you when you dueled Thickenesse?

"Father."

"And who insisted that you come stay here at the Burrow?"

"Mother."

"And who first insisted that you act as a pall bearer on Saturday?"

"William."

"And who has been sitting here, admitting his biggest regret,to help you understand that love and forgiveness and our family staying together is more important than who-said-what-to-who?"

"Whom, Ronald."

"Uh, Perce? That'd be me, in case you hadn't noticed the last 10 minute conversation."

"No, Ronald. Whom, not who. Who-said-what-to-whom."

Ron couldn't help but grin. Percy was finally starting to lighten up. Ron hoped that it was all finally going to sink in. "So, does this mean you're going to stand with us?"

Percy cringed. Back to the casket again. Every conversation felt like the ramifications of his betrayal were discussed anew. Had Percy never left, showing up at Hogwarts would have been expected. If the rothers hadn't made such a big deal of Percy's return, they wouldn't have been standing idly in that passage talking... and Fred would still be here. Percy also struggled because he knew that Ron was right. The family had clearly forgiven him and accepted him back. But could he forgive himself so easily? He had spent so much time ignoring the obvious truth, then even longer being too afraid to own up to his mistake. Percy had already given this very dilemma a significant amount of thought, and would later decide that with every opportunity, he'd make an attempt to weigh his family and his career both into the decision, so as to never sacrifice either one of them completely for the other.

"Yes. I'll stand with you all Friday... as long as you promise you're not just having a go at me about all this."

Ron broke into a huge grin. "I promise I'm not having a go at you, Perce. You're one of the few people in the world that know that I left Harry and Hermione on bad terms. But it changed me. It made me really understand the importance of standing with those you love." They both were quiet for a moment before Ron said, "So, are we good?"

"I think we will be, Ronald."

Ron smacked his hands down on his knees and said, "good!" Then he stood and turned to leave the room. "I need to go check on Hermione." Ron took a few slow steps before he turned back, looking happier than he had been in quite some time.

"Oh, Perce?" Ron said with a curious tone in his voice.

"Yes Ronald?"

"Welcome home."


	5. The Clock

_Author's note: Thank you to the hundreds of people that have read my story, favorited/alerted it, and especially the handful of you that have been so kind as to take time to leave feedback. My inspirations for these chapters have come from detailed conversations with HalfASlug and . They are both amazing writers with incredible ideas. I hope that everyone reading this chapter will see the names and take the time to read their stories, as well._

_I think this will be the last chapter of this particular tale, but I have a few other one-shots and mini-stories floating around in my head. The one that I've made the most headway on planning and writing so far has been The Malfoy Trials. I've got one chapter nearly done with an additional four chapters planned, at least with generic plot info and minor details._

_This was probably my favorite chapter to write - I think the clock is an incredible plot device that is oft overlooked. I probably did as much background reading to try to find details than I've done with all other chapters put together. It was a tough write with several topics all jumbled together, but I think that makes for a fun (and realistic) story. When the last time that life was linear along a single topic?_

_I only hope that I do these lives justice. And now good reader, I finally present to you __The Clock__._

A/N2: One section was re-written for clarity. It seems I inferred that Bill refused...I intended to imply that he accepted. Altho it was interesting to explore those possibilities. Hopefully this meets somewhere in the middle.

Nearly two full weeks had passed since Fred's funeral and everyone was starting to get settled. Bill and Fleur would stop by each afternoon to help Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny do all the little things get the Burrow back into shape. Death Eaters had ransacked the home after Ron was identified at Malfoy Manor, and the level of destruction made them all suspect that they tore up the Burrow out of frustration. Once the house was in a reasonable semblance of order, the shed was repaired, and the coop rebuilt, the teens spent several afternoons lounging near the orchard or down by the pond discussing the plans that Hermione and Ron were making for their trip to Australia.

Charlie had been spending equal amounts of time at the Burrow and visiting old acquaintances. He didn't make it back from Romania often, so he wanted to catch up with old friends and offer condolences to classmates that had lost family members during the war.

George had gotten tired of just sitting around the house, so he started spending his afternoons back at the joke shop. He didn't really want to re-open the stop just yet, so he worked slowly and carefully, reviewing stock and supplies, reviewing product specifications and reliving all the memories that he and Fred had made in the shop. Several times he had attempted to create a new gag, but each one fell flat and he quickly gave up on inventing for the time being. He had considered moving back to the flat above the shop, but ultimately decided that he wasn't ready to be alone yet.

Arthur and Percy had been working long days at the Ministry, leaving before sunrise each morning and returning home each night long after dinner had gone cold. Most of the family spent the evenings together in the sitting room, listening to stories about the reforms that Kingsley was making in the Ministry. They were all glad to hear that he was taking every complaint of crimes against Muggles very seriously, and the rumors were making their rounds that attempts to bribe officials was resulting in formal investigations and further prosecution. In short, Kingsley was a driving force in clearing out the problems surrounding the Ministry.

Molly seemed to be the one that had the hardest time adjusting to this new life. She went through periods of deep depression, still distraught that she had to bury one of her sons. Her grief for her lost son was only slightly subdued by the times when she considered that she had defeated Bellatrix. What if she had managed to do it sooner? Would Fred still be alive? Could she have done it without the motivation of everything that transpired up to that point? Did it make her a bad mother that she stepped up to protect her daughter, but had let her sons face battle alone? And to top it off, what were the legal ramifications? Would someone from Magical Law Enforcement come and escort her to Azkaban for murder?

Other times she would go through periods of incredible elation - particularly after reading articles in _The Prophet_ or _The Quibbler_ about how much her children had meant to everyone throughout the war. Letters were published nearly every day, applauding the efforts of Harry, Ron and Hermione for their year-long adventure to beat You-Know-Who, Fred and George for bringing light and hope through their joke shop and _Potterwatch_, for Ginny and Dumbledore's Army which protected the younger students at Hogwarts, and the Order of the Phoenix for all the covert missions they ran to protect everyone they could.

Letters and articles like those had a mixed effect on Molly. Her emotions ranged from scared senseless when she would read a new detail about all the dangerous things her children had been involved in, to being proud that they showed their Gryffindor courage and stuck together to get through each encounter. It was awful for her to be so conflicted all the time. And she knew that the worst was yet to come: her babies were growing up. Bill married, Charlie living in Romania, George owned a business, Percy held a high position in the Ministry, Ron had accepted a position with the Aurors, and Ginny - oh, her precious little Ginny - drawing attention for her beauty, spellwork, and her bravery. Yes, people were starting to respect the Weasley name.

But no, those weren't her only children. Harry - _the boy_...no, she corrected herself, _the daring young man who lived_ - had also accepted a position with the Aurors. Rumors were already circulating that he was to be featured on a Chocolate Frog card. Several fakes had already hit the streets but were quickly discredited. And Hermione - the brightest witch of her age - already turning down positions in prominent Ministry departments to follow her true desire: equal rights for Muggle-born and magical creatures. Molly knew that it would only be a matter of time until Hermione started making headway against the old blood-purity groups.

As she sat on the threadbare sofa, covered with an old hand-knitted afghan that she made when she was pregnant with Charlie, Molly sighed contentedly. Somewhere deep down inside, she had known the day was coming that she'd have to let her children grow up, and that's probably what broke her heart the most. Gone were the days of the boys needing her to make their meals, settle their differences, and reverse their accidental magic. She couldn't just give them a hug and kiss to make everything better. Gone were the days that mum was the most important person in their lives or that they were scared of her.

Molly stood from the sofa and drew the attention of her family that had surrounded her in the sitting room after supper. Her heart raced as she considered the words that she never wanted to admit that she needed to say to them. But she knew this may be the last night together before everyone started going about their lives. She walked over to the closet and retrieved a box before turning back to the room and beginning her story.

"There has been a tradition in my family for several generations that I'd like to share with you all," she started nervously. "While I'm sure you have all seen it before, I suspect that many of you don't know the history of it." She continued as she walked over to the fireplace, where the family clock was sitting on the mantle. "This clock has been very special to me and I have cherished it since the day that your father and I married. Shortly before the reception ended, my parents pulled us aside to share the history of a clock much like this one." Molly could feel the dichotomy of her emotions building in her chest - elation that it was finally her turn to share this gift with her family and the heartbreak of having to finally let go.

Her eyes started to water as she went on, "several generations ago, one of my ancestors made the very first clock like this for his family. As his children grew up and moved on, he made each of them a clock just like his." She cleared a space on the endtable closest to Bill with her wand, then set down the package she had just retrieved. She used her want to open the box and remove the contents as she said, "But instead of starting each clock anew, he removed the arm of each child in turn, making it the first hand in the child's family clock. It was his way of saying to them that he approved of them and considered them wizarding adults. Not as equals in power and knowledge, perhaps, but as adults. It was his way of telling his children that they had successfully completed his Rite of Passage, if you will. This is your clock," she said as she handed the clock to Bill. Molly then turned towards the old family clock to retrieve what she needed to start her son's family clock.

Gasps could be heard throughout the room as everyone stopped listening to Molly and started looking more closely at the old clock. One lone hand pointed directly down to a spot on the clock that none could remember seeing - _Beyond the Veil_. It seemed so awkward to see Fred's hand there alone. Fred, the eternal twin, part of a pair, one half of a matching set... and yet for the first time his clock hand stood alone, apart from George. Ironically, the gold paint on the arm seemed to shine brighter because for the first time ever as it stood without George's hand to partially cover it, nothing to protect him from the elements. Somehow, this only made George's hand seem duller in suggestive way - like part of the clock knew that George would never be as bright without his other half alongside him.

The other eleven hands sat in a cluster, pointed straight up towards _Home_. Several people noticed this because there had previously only been nine hands on the clock so the group appeared much larger to those that had ever looked closely. At some point, Molly had added hands for Fleur, Hermione, and Harry. Molly had noticed the family became distracted after they had a better look at the hands on the clock. She looked back towards the clock and realized what distracted them. She intentionally drew attention away from Fred's hand, as she wasn't ready to deal with removing it like she knew she should. "Oh, the extra hands. Yes. I added hands for the three of you. I've long considered you all my children, and I wanted to be able to keep tabs on you last year. Unfortunately, 'Mortal Peril' didn't really help much with that," she added sadly.

Subtle laughs could be heard throughout the room. Molly went back to her family clock, opened the glass face, and then carefully began removing the thumbscrew that held the cluster of hands in place. She cautiously removed the two that read "Bill" and "Fluer" before walking over to the couch where they were sitting. Molly got down on her knees so she could get as close to the couple as possible. The tears started down her cheek and her voice cracked as she gently placed the clock hands in Fluer's outstretched palm. "I meant to give these to you as a wedding gift, but the reception party was rudely interrupted."

Bill opened the clockface and removed the thumbscrew so Fluer could place the hands on the clock. Before she did, Bill pulled out his wand and cast _geminio_, creating a second pair of clock hands. He took the new pair and handed them back to Molly. "I can only imagine what this must be like for you. For all these years, the clock was how you knew we were all safe. And honestly mum, there's no point in changing that just because I'm married. But Fluer and I are excited to have our own clock."

Molly's shoulder shook with great heaving sobs as Bill and Fluer sat forward on the couch and had a group hug with her. There wasn't a dry eye in the room as everyone got up from their chairs and joined the familial embrace. Somewhere from the middle of the pile, Molly muttered through wracking sobs, "You have no idea how hard this is - to finally admit that my little boy is all grown up and on his own, starting his own family. This is one of the hardest things I've ever done. And hopefully you don't find out how much this hurts for a long, long time."

Tears and smiles and stories and laughs and cries were shared openly over the next hour or so. The family sat together, reliving memories, making plans for the future, and enjoying time together without the threat of a dark wizard attack. There were no hidden plans in The Burrow that night - nobody planning to sneak away, nobody preparing for a wizarding war. The darkest schemes were made by couples that wanted to sneak away and enjoy a bit of quiet time together.

There was just a family, finally taking the time to sit together and get through their struggles one day at a time.


End file.
